Debbie Macomber - Sooner or Later

To my friends who love the smell of chlorine in the morning as much as I do .

Rachel Williams, Audrey Rugh, Lorraine Reece, Joyce Hudson, Leta Taylor, Marjorie Johnson, Debbie Noble, Mary Cammin, Maria Houston, Janet Hane, Sue Felix, Mark Ryan, Jessie Truax, Greg Northcutt, Bill Irvine, Per Johnson, and Kathy Davis for watching over us all .

A womans frantic scream pierced Luke Maddens slumber. He bolted upright and shook his head, hoping to clear the sleepy fog from his brain.

The rumors had been rampant for weeks, filled with threats of a military coup, but the Zarcero government was handling the situation competently. Less than a week ago, Luke had personally been assured by President Cartago that there was no need for concern.

The screech of rapid-fire gunshots was followed by shrieks of horror and outrage.

Luke threw back the lone sheet and reached for his pants. The hair on the back of his neck stood straight out as the sound of booted feet slapped on the boardwalk outside his window.

No sooner had he yanked up the zipper than his door slammed open. A crazy-eyed soldier toting an Uzi stormed into Lukes bedroom, screaming at him in hysterical Spanish, demanding that he join the others in the compound.

The first thought that flashed into Lukes mind was that he was going to die.

Away from home. Away from his twin sister.

In that split second, he realized how desperately he longed to live. A mental image of Rosita, the brown-eyed beauty he loved and planned to marry, filtered into his thoughts as he rushed to follow the guerrillas orders.

Chaos greeted him outside. Frightened, desperate women huddled in a circle by the fountain, protecting their children. Frantically Luke searched for Rosita and was relieved when he found her with the other women.

The lifeless body of Ramn Hermosa lay sprawled in a pool of blood outside the chapel doors. Mowed down by hate. Murdered in the name of progress. The dead mans open eyes stared blankly into the night.

Ramn. Dear God, not Ramn . Anger surged through Luke like an electric current. The kind old man was no threat to anyone.

What is it you want? Luke cried out, clenching his fists.

Three men, all heavily armed, approached him. One slammed the butt of his rifle against Lukes shoulder, shoving him closer to the women. Intense pain spiraled down his arm.

What do you want? Luke repeated, ignoring the danger to himself.

The three men parted when an officer approached. Hate gleamed in their commanders eyes as he studied Luke. Luke could feel the other mans loathing as keenly as hed once felt Rositas love.

I understand you are a friend of our president, the commander spat out. Slowly a sinister, evil smile edged up the sides of his mouth. Or should I say former president.

This is a mission, Luke explained, gesturing toward the church. I have nothing to do with politics.

You should have thought of that before you made friends with Jos Cartago. You will pay dearly for that friendship, Seor . Very dearly indeed.

He removed a polished pistol from his holster and pointed it at Lukes head.

No, for the love of God, no ! Rosita screamed, and raced across the grounds. Sobbing, she threw herself at the commanders feet. Please, I beg of you in the name of the Virgin Mother, I plead with you not to do this.

But it was too late, Luke realized. He was a dead man.

Im willing to pay you for your services.

Let me see if I understand you correctly, Murphy said, eyeing the prim and oh-so-proper postmistress who held his mail hostage. You want me to accompany you to Zarcero?

The woman was nuts, Murphy decided. There were no two ways about it. Letty Madden, postmistress of Boothill, Texas, was a prime candidate for the loony bin.

She looked up at him from behind her scarred oak desk in her private office, her brown eyes as dark as bittersweet chocolate. This female-in-distress performance might weaken another mans defenses, but not Murphys. He had no intention of interrupting a well-deserved rest for some woman with an itch up her butt, seeking adventure.

His opinion of the opposite sex had never been high, and since his friends Cain and Mallory had both married, his attitude was even worse. Itd take more than the fluttering of this postmistresss eyelashes for him to traipse through some jungle on a wild-goose chase.

You dont understand, she insisted.

Murphy understood all right; he just didnt happen to be interested in the job. Besides, the postmistress wouldnt earn enough money in two lifetimes to afford him or the services of Deliverance Company.

Its my brother, she continued, and bit into her trembling lower lip.

A nice touch, Murphy mused skeptically, but it wouldnt change his mind.

Hes a missionary.

She actually managed to look as though she were on the verge of weeping. She was good, Murphy gave her that much. Sincerity all but oozed from her pores.

Since the Zarceran government collapsed, no one in the State Department or CIA can tell me whats happened to him. The phone lines are down, and now the United States has severed diplomatic relations. The people in the State Department wont even talk to me anymore. But I refuse to forget my brother.